In Obscuro Speculo
by Frost on Maples
Summary: A different ending to the movie changes the game for everyone. Teamfic, with lots of guests. AU
1. Chapter 1

**In Obscuro Speculo**

**Author's Notes:** I don't own the Avengers. Really. Not even stock in Disney/Marvel.

I love AU's that explore what I call "the domino effect": one thing is different, and it changes everything that follows. This is my first attempt at an AU of my own, and was started in response to a challenge at the Beta Branch. As you will see, it's a "what if one rather crucial element of the end of the Avengers movie was different?", and goes from there.

Many thanks to bunch at the Beta Branch, both for the much-needed editing and encouragement. Any mistakes are solely mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_He carried his terrible cargo through the glowing portal into stark darkness. Pepper's gleaming image flickered and vanished, Jarvis' voice stuttered and faded, leaving him in the cold blackness with his deadly burden to face the monstrous spaceship alone. _

_The clamps blew loose, the force pushing the missile forward in its final dash to fate and shoving him back towards the portal._

_He watched the missile until it impacted the ship and exploded into blinding light. His eyes slid shut in acceptance as he tumbled slowly through the silent, airless void, the wave of radiation streaking towards him..._

XXXXXXXXXXX

Red and gold tumbled in the sky.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Natasha Romanoff saw the gleaming metal form slip though the last tiny bit of the portal before it vanished, and a small smile of relief crossed her face.

A howl of rage from an incoming pair of the aliens on a flier drew her attention down from the sky. Her smile vanished as she dragged Dr. Selvig to cover and returned fire, making them back off. She called into her earpiece as she scanned the area for more Chitauri, "Could use some help here!" She risked a quick look up, expecting repulsor blasts, a metal form blasting rock music coming in for a landing. Her eyes widened in horror as there was only limp tumbling…

XXXXXXXXXXX

Risking a quick glance up after downing another Chitauri, Steve called to his compatriot. "Thor…"

"He's not stopping," Thor said apprehensively. He started to twirl his hammer, only to be tackled to the ground by a determined trio of Chitauri. A wave of their opponents swept over them, and the fight for survival superseded their concern for Stark. A roar echoed over the city, but it wasn't until the green mass clutching battered red and gold armour was halfway down the side of a skyscraper that Steve saw the rescue.

"Over there!" Steve shouted to Thor.

The Asgardian said nothing, but threw his opponents against the nearest wall with grim determination. He swatted the remains of a cab after them to ensure their dispatch before turning to Steve to backhand a determined alien warrior off the soldier. "Let's go find them before this bunch regroups. It looks like they shouldn't be far."

The Hulk was snarling at the small group of Chitauri clinging to the side of a nearby building before he even hit the ground. Steve winced as the green behemoth tossed Stark aside to fall with a clank on the ground. He slid to a stop and crouched beside the red and gold body even as he ordered, "Thor, keep guard with the Hulk."

"Aye," Thor agreed, glaring at the gathering aliens. "None shall get past. Help our comrade." He stood glowering at the Chitauri as Steve hovered over Stark, searching for signs of life while the Hulk looked about, growling ominously.

"I'm not sure what to do," the soldier said uncertainly. "I can't tell anything about him with the suit on."

The Hulk's roar of rage at the sight of a pair of flyers made Steve's heart jump into his throat: not only did it make him in his battle-heightened state physically jump, it also made the metal body in front of him jump as well.

"You're alive!" Steve gasped in relief.

"Yes, and partly deaf now, too," the familiar cocky voice replied. "What's going on?"

"Captain, they're on the move," Thor said softly. "We need your help." Steve looked up: the Chitauri were definitely deliberately moving closer, getting into position.

Steve glanced back quickly when he heard the rasp of metal on concrete. "Stay down, we've got this."

"Obviously, the super soldier formula didn't include the ability to do math," was the weak but determined reply. "There's one hell of a lot more of them than us. You need all the help you can get." There was more of the metal on concrete scraping. "Though if one of you could spare a hand…"

The mass of aliens surged forward even as Steve said, "Not now!" He braced himself behind his shield as Thor started to twirl his hammer and the Hulk roared a challenge. "Let them come to us!" Steve shouted. _Protect Stark_ went unsaid.

The leading Chitauri were in full stride, howling their own challenge, weapons ready… and the leaders suddenly stopped, the following warriors slamming into them, resulting in an unlikely pileup plastered against an invisible wall.

"Od's blood, what's this?" Thor asked, bewildered.

"If they've decided to take up pantomime, ask them to do descending stairs next, I love those," was the suggestion from the ground behind them.

"Sorry we're late, gentlemen." Steve couldn't suppress a shudder of revulsion as he watched a fluid form ooze down the side of a building, clutching a blonde woman in a distorted hand. She had her arms extended towards the four men on the ground, her forehead creased in concentration even as her feet touched the ground. The flowing form gathered at the base of the building and pulled together into the familiar features of Dr. Reed Richards. Overhead, a human-shaped fireball streaked towards the nearest leviathan, while the ground shook under the impact of The Thing's landing in the midst of the wave of aliens. "We had some problems leaving a negatively charged dimension-"

"OK Suzie, I've got these bozos. Drop your shield and let the good guys in on the fun," Ben Grimm rumbled, grabbing an alien by a leg to use it as a club. The Hulk snarled a challenge to the newcomer. Grimm rolled his eyes even as he continued plowing through the mob. "C'mon Jade Jaws, let's see how many more you can smash without smashing me in the process. It's clobbering time!"

XXXXXXXXXXX

The impact against the glass jarred his teeth, but it shattered as he had hoped. He tumbled into the office, narrowly missing desks and chairs to end up on his back, quiver painfully digging into abused muscles.

"You know, I don't think you're supposed do it like that. Landing on your back, especially when you're wearing an arrow holder thingy, is hard on the spine."

Clint Barton turned to glare at the red and blue figure hanging in the window. "No shit." With a wince, he sat up, brushing shards of glass out of his hair. "And it's called a quiver, not an 'arrow holder thingy'. Where the hell have you been?"

"Hey, I had to fight my way here from Queens. Count yourself lucky that I got here in time to see your lame attempt to copy my righteous moves and decided to come over to see if you survived that crappy landing. The swing you did from the rooftop was impressive." The red and blue nuisance prattled on even as he scanned their surroundings for enemies. "For technique, I'd have given it an eight and artistic impression a six or seven, but you lost major points with that landing. The only good thing I can say about it was it was better than the ones done by those three creepy dudes I knocked off the side of the building on my way here."

A Hulk-style roar, followed by a boom, echoed nearby.

"I should get over there," Clint said, climbing slowly to his feet with a grimace. "I may be out of arrows, but I can still shoot a gun."

"Give you a lift?" Spiderman offered. Clint hesitated, wincing at another crash in the distance. "It'll be faster than climbing down twenty flights of stairs." More hesitation. "I'll be extra careful." Clint raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Really!"

"I know I'm going to regret this," Clint grumbled as he put his arms around the web-slinger's waist. "Just don't forget about me when you swing over things."

"Trust me!"

XXXXXXXXXXX

The flyers were still soaring around the rooftops. Natasha ducked for cover behind the generator, pulling Dr. Selvig with her. She turned to him, shaking his arm to draw his attention back to her from the aliens.

"Doctor," she said urgently, "how do we disable the machine? If we don't, they might figure out how to restart it and we will have to do this all over again."

He visibly pulled himself together, focusing past his mental confusion to the necessity of _now_. "We - we need to pull the tesseract out. Without it as a power source, the machinery is useless. The case for it-" he looked around wildly, panic starting to surge until she laid a soothing hand on his arm, "- it was beside the monitor."

"There it is," she said spotting it behind some debris. She calmly retrieved it and looked at him expectantly.

"We need to pull out the cube and put it into the case," he said. He turned to the portal generator and hesitated.

Natasha stepped forward. "If you tell me what to do, I'll help you," she offered, one eye to the sky. "We need to do this quickly, before they realize how defenceless we are up here."

He nodded, face twisted with conflicted emotions. "You're right. I - I've lost the tongs for handling the tesseract." Shame crossed his face as he picked up the keyboard.

She looked into his face. "And you don't want to risk touching it." She simply stated the fact, no censure in her voice. She squared her shoulders, staring into his eyes. "Can I handle it without the tongs?"

"It should be safe," he said, "the portal isn't functioning, so power levels are low." He carefully tapped the controls, and the brackets holding it in place loosened.

"You should be able to reach in and take it out now," he said, opening the case. "You'll need to take the sensor wire off the side, and try not to touch the base of chamber."

She reached in gingerly, first carefully pulling off the sensor wire, then gently grasped the glowing cube with a gloved hand. Quickly, she pulled it out of the machinery and set it into the case Selvig held. He slammed it shut with a shudder, sweat mingling with the blood from his head wound to trickle down his forehead.

"Thank god," he gasped, shaking.

"Are you all right, doctor?" she asked, worried.

"I'll be fine," he gasped. "It's just - seeing it makes me remember things she showed me. I - I need to forget…"

"You'll be fine," she said reassuringly. "We'll get you help." She looked over his shoulder, frowning, at the penthouse. "I do need your help with something first."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Frank Castle bared his teeth defiantly as he watched the massive leviathan soar to the northwest of the city. He fired a rocket at it in the vain hope of causing it damage before turning back to mow down the last of the alien scum behind him. When he was able to look back up, the giant beast was already a small shape in the distance.

"Someone else is going to have to deal with that mess," he growled. "Lucky break for those alien bastards." He rolled his shoulders and checked his ammo as he jogged towards the sound of more alien shrieks. Time go hunting.

He smiled.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Sue, please put your shield back up around us," Reed Richards ordered as he knelt next to Tony. "Mr. Stark, how can I help you?"

"I can figure this out-" Tony started.

Richards interrupted him briskly with an impatient wave of his hand. "I'm sure you could do it yourself, but time is of the essence. Stuff your ego and let me help."

Stark's mouth snapped shut and he glared at Richards. The scientist glared back. The engineer finally relented with a sigh. "Fine. There's a panel on my left hip…"

After twenty minutes of intense arguing, Iron Man was back on his feet, with Jarvis fully functional. "There's no way to get you enough power for flight," Richards said as he admiringly examined the circuitry connecting the arc reactor to the repulsors, "but you should have enough power to put up a fight and keep Jarvis functional."

A blazing form swooped up to hover overhead. "The National Guard is here and working with the NYPD on 39th to go building to building," the Human Torch said. "I'm going to help them."

Richards turned to Rogers. "You have things well in hand here," he said, watching Thor slam a Chitauri into a wall while the Hulk snarled at a lonely incoming flyer. "It's our turn - we'll go help them. Stay here and wait for anything we flush out down here."

Rogers looked around him at his companions: Thor was definitely moving more deliberately, favouring his left side, Stark was carefully expressionless as he checked his gauntlet repulsors, and the Hulk… The Hulk would definitely need to calm down if there weren't any more Chitauri on hand, lest his rage overflow into general destruction.

He nodded tersely. "Go. We've got this."

XXXXXXXXXXX

In Hell's Kitchen, Daredevil tossed a pair of Chitauri from their flier. On the ground below, as Iron Fist punched one of them from mid-air to land in a steadily-growing pile of alien bodies, Luke Cage grabbed the other by a leg, while the man without fear leaped off the flier to let it crash into the Hudson.

"Where the hell did these bozos come from?" Luke Cage growled as he used the alien as a club on three more of the alien ground troops. "I was all set to go home for a beer and watch the game."

"Wherever they come from, they don't come in peace," Iron Fist replied, tossing a weapon onto another pile. "I think the game probably got cancelled."

Daredevil cocked his head as he stood on a nearby fire escape, listening intently. "The worst is over by Stark Tower: the portal these things were coming out of was directly over top - " he stopped with a wince and gasp as a roar echoed through the streets, followed by an explosion in the opposite direction, from Harlem. "Between the Hulk's roaring and Castle's explosions, I'm going to end up deaf."

"Look!" Luke pointed.

"Not happening until my ears stop ringing," Daredevil complained.

"Two of those giant flying things," Luke explained. "One's flying southeast out over the ocean, way faster than before. The other one… is going southwest." Dread washed over the three heroes.

"They plan to do this across the world," Iron Fist said grimly.

XXXXXXXXXXX

_Zip_

"Are you sure that'll work?"

_Zip_

"Those don't look very thick."

Natasha gave Selvig a _look_ of the sort that in the past had made Fury himself pause. "They are much stronger than they look," she said mildly.

"It's just, well," Eric Selvig fidgeted, knowing he was pushing matters, but his understandable anxiety forced him to continue. "Asgardians are much stronger than humans. Do you really think those will be strong enough?"

She gave the zip tie securing Loki's wrists an extra tug. "Can you grab that chair over by the bar for me? Oh, and one of the bar towels." The nervous physicist scurried over to the bar and, after retrieving a towel, dragged the indicated chair over to her.

"Now what?"

"Sit down on the chair and give me your socks."

"My…" He swallowed the question as she glared and did as she asked. "Um…Do you need my shoes?"

"Nope. Just the socks. Better put the shoes back on." She gingerly picked up the socks, keeping them at arm's length. Chagrined, Eric suddenly realized that he was still wearing the same clothes he had on when Loki had arrived two weeks earlier.

"Now what?"

She made sure she was leaning over Loki's ear as she said, "Hold the chair over your head."

Nervously, he did as he was told. "Um, do you mind if I ask why?"

She leaned closer to Loki's head as she wedged his jaw open. "Because if you hear so much as a whisper, see him do the tiniest twitch, I want you to hit him with the chair."

"I don't need to hold it over my head to do that."

"If he tries to incapacitate you, the chair will fall and still hit him."

"Right." Smirking, he carefully aligned the chair for optimal angle. He watched as she stuffed the socks into Loki's mouth and used the towel to secure them in place. Puzzled, he asked, "Wouldn't the towel alone have been enough to gag him?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Probably. But not nearly as nasty as he deserves." She added another zip tie, this time to immobilize the Asgardian's fingers. "You can put the chair down."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. It's not good policy to hit people on the head if they're defenceless: review committees take a dim view of that," she said with a shrug. "Besides, I want you to help me drag him out onto the roof. That should also be very uncomfortable and embarrassing for him, but it's necessary and we can't pick him up easily, so anyone doing a review of this later can't complain."

For the first time in weeks, Eric Selvig smiled.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"There they are - whoa!" Only extraordinary reflexes aided by his spidersense saved Spiderman and his passenger from being smeared into the side of a building by a flying slab of concrete. "Take it easy! We're the good guys!"

"Stand down, Hulk," Captain America ordered. "Who are you?"

"Just your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman." The red and blue form flipped off a jaunty salute as he cautiously slid down a web line. "I'm here to return one of your lost lambs."

The hero looked more closely at the dangling forms. "Agent Barton. Good to see you are all right." Cap nodded in acknowledgement. "Many thanks."

"Thanks for the lift," Barton mumbled, jumping free. The SHIELD agent looked like he was seriously considering kissing the pavement.

"Any time," Spiderman said, clinging to the side of a building. "I generally specialize in damsels in distress, but when alien invasions happen I'll make an exception." He glanced around. "You seem to have thinned them out in this area: I think I'll join the Fantastic Four uptown to party with the National Guard and NYPD." He jumped off the side of the building, shooting webbing at another one to swing away in his usual style. "Later!"

"Strange way of getting around, but he really makes good time swinging around like that," Cap mused.

"Trust me Cap," Barton said, pulling out his pistol to shoot a Chitauri charging up behind Thor, "you never want to travel like that. Ever."

XXXXXXXXXXX

In Greenwich Village, a brownstone sat serenely undisturbed amidst the chaos. Humans unconsciously avoided it, running around it to other buildings, not even noticing the dim light in its windows. A dog, whimpering in fear, started to run for the calm of its steps, only to stop, back away a few steps, and then bolted for the end of the block yelping.

A squad of Chitauri paused in their pursuit of some humans to stare at the innocuous building. The leader sniffed the air, curious - there was a strange scent of power, irresistible to his kind. He signalled the rest to follow and charged forward…to suddenly vanish in a flash of light. The rest skidded to a halt before impacting the invisible barrier as light swirled to form letters in Chitauri dialect: _I am not home. Do not trespass._

XXXXXXXXXXX

Natasha huffed in exasperation. "There's too many of them." She threw a quick apologetic glance over her shoulder at Selvig. "I'm sorry, Doctor. This is likely not going to end well."

The doctor nodded in understanding and gripped the case containing the tesseract tighter as he kicked the sceptre and Loki further behind him, tighter to the building's ventilation system. "Give me a gun," he suggested. "I don't have a very good aim, but if they get close enough it won't matter."

Wordlessly, she studied him intently for one brief second. With a brief nod, she pulled out her small backup piece and handed it to him. "Don't shoot unless you absolutely have to," she instructed.

"No problem," he agreed, nervously pointing it away towards the ground. He shrank back behind her as she turned to face an incoming flyer. "I think-"

A bang behind her made her jump. She spun, gun ready, only to find a swirling black cloud where he had stood: she charged through it, coughing from the sudden stench of sulfur as she frantically scanned the rooftop in vain for the physicist.

She turned back to face her captive, eyes narrowed. Loki's eyes widened as she took precise aim between his eyes. "I don't know how you did that, but you have precisely five seconds- " the assassin growled.

The banging sound interrupted her and she swiftly pivoted to see a blue tailed form reaching for her. Yellow eyes widened and the form vanished into a black swirl as she fired.

She took aim again at Loki. "Is this another one of your allies, Loki? Or another one of your tricks?"

_"Actually, Agent Romanoff, Mr. Wagner is neither, and I would very much appreciate it if you didn't shoot him."_ The voice was eerily quiet. Too quiet: her skin crawled as she suddenly realized that she wasn't hearing with her ears. _"We will move our plane closer so you can board. Please do not shoot us."_

Her gun didn't waver from its aim at Loki's head as a plane silently rose into sight beside the rooftop. It hovered quietly, gracefully pivoting to lower a rear ramp to the roof. She blinked but didn't move when a man made of steel jumped out, followed by a white haired black woman and three men in leather outfits.

"Colossus, get the Asgardian and the equipment aboard," one of the men ordered. He scanned the sky, one hand at the strange visor covering his eyes. "Storm, you and I are going to pick off any fliers that get close. Iceman, some cover for Agent Romanoff and the Blackbird." He turned to the third man. "Wolverine-"

"I'm going hunting," the third man announced. Metal claws popped out of the back of his hands as he eyed one of the fliers drawing close with a feral grin. "I'll deal with this one." He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck. "Don't wait up." He took a flying leap off the roof to land on the flyer, and rapidly spiralled out of sight.

The leader sighed even as he turned to face the incoming aliens. "Bobby, look after things here. Storm, let's kick some ass." He turned away to suddenly have a stream of violent red light stream from his visor, as the woman's eyes turned white in the sudden lash of wind. Stormclouds suddenly gathered around the tower, and Nat saw lightning lash at multiple fliers before a wall of ice blocked her view.

The young man called Bobby turned to her, and courteously gestured to her to board the plane before he did. "Agent Romanoff, please don't worry. We'll get you to safety."

She eyed him darkly, but said nothing as she warily stepped around the steel man to board the plane. "Make sure Loki's gag stays in place," she ordered as she watched him carry the Asgardian. "And be careful with the apparatus. I'm sure that there a lot of people who will want to take that thing apart very carefully to figure it out."

She turned to the bald man in the wheelchair. "I need you to take me to the SHIELD helicarrier. Now."

XXXXXXXXXXX

"That's the last of them," Barton announced, watching the last flyer crash into the street.

"For now," Stark said, scanning the sky. He flipped up his face mask, letting them see him frown. "There's a small black cloud over by my tower. And…I just saw lightning. Point Break, you have anything to do with that?"

"No," Thor said, frowning as he followed Stark's line of sight. He started to twirl his hammer. "I should go investigate."

"Never mind," the billionaire said. "It just vanished." He sighed. "Just what we need today: funky weather to go with an alien invasion."

The Hulk looked up, snarling, flexing his massive hands as he searched for more foes.

Rogers stepped in front of him. "Hulk, stand down." He didn't flinch at the answering snarl. "_Stand down_. The enemy is not here anymore. Dr. Banner, we need you to calm down."

Emerald eyes glared at him, and for a minute Rogers thought the monster had won. Then, the green rage faded to exhausted brown eyes and Bruce Banner was with them once again, clutching the tattered remains of his pants.

"Welcome back, Dr. Banner," Rogers said.

"Thank-you," Banner said, moving slowly to sit on the hood of a cab. He looked around at the general destruction with a sigh of resignation. "I imagine the Other Guy caused a bunch of this."

"Don't worry," Stark replied. "We'll send a bill to the Chitauri for the stuff not covered by insurance. With interest." He eyed Banner with a snort. "Rather than dazzle us with your manly not-green chest, why don't you go rummage up some clothes?"

"I'm not a looter," Banner retorted, with a stubborn set to his jaw.

"Just go get a shirt and a fresh set of pants," Tony retorted. "There are advantages to knowing a rich philanthropist: if insurance won't pay for it, I will, or I might even buy the shop if they're really huffy about it." He made a shooing motion. "Go. We don't need you to distract the ladies of the fire and ambulance departments."

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Is that it?" the Human Torch asked as The Thing tossed a final Chitauri into the growing pile. He landed next to his brother-in-law to watch him disassembling one of the aliens weapons. "I don't see any more, and the army guys and cops haven't called us for a while."

"Looks like it," Spiderman replied as he checked the pair he had webbed to the side of a building. "Hope so. There's way too many of these guys to make them all sit in a corner for a time-out already."

"There's four more!" Sue Storm pointed at four small flying forms retreating south.

"Want me to go after them?" the Torch asked, flames starting to gather around him.

Reed Richards looked up from the weapon. "No need." He smiled grimly. "That area's well taken care of already."

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Get ready people," Steve announced, "we've got incoming." He pointed out four flyers coming towards them.

Banner jogged back from his reluctant scavenging, new shirt hanging unbuttoned, shoes and water in hand.

While he was sure the Asgardian would never admit fatigue, Steve noticed Thor's motions were more deliberate than they were earlier. He knew his own reactions were growing slower, and his abdomen still throbbed from the shot he had taken earlier. Tony had no qualms about letting his exhaustion show - he stayed seated on a car hood as he accepted a water bottle from Banner, sipping as he watched the flyers, while Banner merely eyed the incoming aliens with a shrug as he offered water bottles all round.

As the flyers drew closer, they could hear the challenging howls of the Chitauri. Tony flipped down his faceplate and wearily climbed to his feet as Thor started to twirl his hammer…

Four missiles streaked through the air, turning the flyers into fireballs. Thor turned and saluted the quinjet wearily with his hammer, exclaiming, "Well met!" Steve sighed in relief, lowering his shield, Bruce slumped against the remains of a cab as the tension left his body, while Tony calmly flipped his faceplate back up to take another swig from the water bottle in his hand, only a tremor in his hand betraying his relief.

The quinjet delicately settled down in a relatively clear space. Its boarding ramp lowered and Romanoff casually sauntered out. "Hi guys. Need a lift?" Despite the grime and blood, she looked like she had been out for a Sunday drive.

"We should stand by in case there are more-" Steve started.

"The National Guard, NYPD and other super-powered individuals have things well in hand. Loki is locked down in a cell on the helicarrier. Scanners on the helicarrier detect no more alien forces in this area, and Director Fury needs to debrief you," she interrupted.

"We should check in with them before leaving the scene-" Steve persisted.

"Before we go anywhere, we need to eat," Tony declared. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving. Fury can wait a bit longer."

They all looked around at each other. Bruce shrugged, "I admit, I could use a bite."

"Agreed," Thor boomed enthusiastically, clapping the scientist on the shoulder.

Rogers was visibly conflicted. "We really should report in," he said, but lacked his usual conviction.

"Cap, you need to refuel before you do a face plant. There's a non-destroyed shawarma place two blocks over," Tony suggested. "I've never had it before and have no idea what it is. Let's get some."

"Why not?" Barton shrugged with a wry expression. "I'm sure there's a lot of other things Fury can deal with before us." He turned to Romanoff, his eyes inscrutable. "Coming?"

She hesitated, eyeing them intently. Stark was carefully neutral, Banner was apologetic, Rogers was hopeful, Thor beamed enthusiastically, and Barton…

She smiled, a small, genuine smile. "Of course. But only if Stark's paying."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Two months later**

In a high-security boardroom on Triskelion Base, Tony Stark frowned at the projected helicarrier blueprints in front of him. Beside him, Pepper Potts watched silently. "This is interesting and all, but I'm not sure why you're asking for my input on this. You have already upgraded these schematics with new ideas from your people and some of my tech. You have your own construction crews." He raised his eyebrows at Nick Fury and Secretary Alexander Pierce. "We're not in the helicarrier building business."

"We're not asking you to build them, Mr. Stark," Pierce said. "We want your perspective on how…adaptable these are for a special project."

"Adaptable?" Pepper asked. "You do realize that the more you want them to do, the more difficult and expensive it becomes to build them?"

"There is a tight deadline," Pierce said, "but I believe that budget won't be a problem."

Tony tilted his head thoughtfully. "What sort of things do you want these ships to do? I mean, they already float, fly, carry aircraft, camouflage themselves, and shoot at things. I don't know if they turn into submarines: I suppose that could be possible. I know they fail big time at containing big green rage monsters. Despite the popularity of the idea in some pop culture, I don't think I could make them change into giant robots-"

"We want to know if they could be adapted for space travel," Fury interrupted bluntly.

Later, when Fury looked back on those days, it was the one memory that made him smile: it was very seldom that both Tony Stark and Pepper Potts were left speechless, mouths agape.

* * *

><p><strong>Next Day<strong>

The living area of what was originally Stark Tower, now known as Avengers Tower, was packed to overflowing. Under most circumstances, Fury wouldn't have considered it an ideal setting for a meeting of this importance, but Stark had persuaded him otherwise.

_"It's a good idea to give the people who'll be doing the heavy lifting for this plan an advance heads up," Stark had said, his face serious. "The politicians need to know, but these people are the ones who'll be on the front lines, no matter what the plan is. Let them know. Sound them out on things, before you present it to the bureaucracy. If you can present a viable plan to the politicians that uses your most valuable assets to their maximum ability, the masses will, a) be less likely to panic, and b) make fewer stupid decisions that will waste both resources and lives."_

He looked about the room: it was the strangest, but most powerful group of individuals he had ever been around in his life. In an effort to cover as much territory as possible, he had contacted key individuals from all over the world. Pierce, privately reviewing the list of attendees off the record over a beer the night before, had made a crack about Stark hosting his own United Nations of ass-kickers and wished him luck. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Fury couldn't hold back a small, grim smile: trust Pierce to come up with a devastatingly accurate summary of the group in front of him.

In addition to all of the Avengers, there were representatives of the mutant community, as well as powered individuals from across the globe. Mutants, accidents of nature, accidents and/or products of science, non-humans: they were all represented, from across the globe. Fury doubted that there had ever been such a gathering before.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Fury said, "thank-you for coming. I realize that it was inconvenient and, in some cases, difficult for you to attend, but you _will_ want to hear this." He glowered at the faces in front of him. "What I'm about to share with you is beyond top secret," Fury said grimly. "You're about to get a preview of the briefing Secretary Pierce and I will be presenting to the World Security Council and the world leaders at the United Nations tomorrow."

Behind him, a screen lit up with a view of a dim cyan planet in a field of stars. "Two days ago, the folks monitoring the Chandra observatory detected a sudden surge of unusual radiation, but it was much closer to home than most of the phenomena they usually chart. Instead of somewhere in another galaxy, it was within our own solar system, just inside Uranus' orbit. The frequencies and energy levels observed were compatible with the possibility of it being a transportation portal." Total silence reigned in the auditorium. "Five other observatories have since confirmed the anomaly."

"Could it be a natural phenomenon?" Darkstar asked, her Russian accent harsh.

"Our analysts have found a eighty-seven percent similarity between the power signature of this new anomaly and the portal that brought Loki to Earth," Fury replied, causing a stir of quiet muttering.

"What would have caused the differences in the power signatures?" Dr. Hank McCoy asked, leaning forward in his seat with an intent frown.

"First, there has to be a different power source. The tesseract is currently closely monitored and is definitely not contributing to this." The next projection was pure data: he waited a minute for the scientists in the room to absorb the implications. "The other reason is that this anomaly is many times larger than the one that brought Loki here. According to these readings, our experts believe that multiple ships came through the singularity. At their current speed, they should be here in about twelve months."

A pin drop could have been heard when he paused, grimly eyeing the roomful of faces. "If any of you have additional insights into the information we're giving you, speak up. I need all of the most brilliant minds on this planet working on solutions for our situation."

"Where's Dr. Richards?" Director Wisdom of MI-13 asked, frowning. "Shouldn't he be here?"

"Dr. Richards and his family are investigating some options for us," Fury said. "It's something only they could do. He was informed of this development, and has made some suggestions. He will be one of our primary consultants on this matter when he returns."

The man who moved to stand beside Fury silenced the room. King T'Challa of Wakanda, also known as the Black Panther, pulled out his own remote for the projector.

"I contacted Director Fury directly last night," he said, deep voice rumbling across the room. "In Wakanda, we made our own observations of the phenomena just described to you. I thought it very important, however, to inform him of the results of our enhanced scans." He clicked the remote.

An audible gasp could be heard from the observers in the room. Five small shapes were visible in silhouette against Uranus.

"They look different than the ship in Mr. Stark's recordings," the Black Knight observed. "Could they be someone other than the Chitauri?"

"There is that possibility," T'Challa replied. "Director Fury and I agree that it is prudent to prepare for the worst."

"We will watch closely," Fury said. "We have already launched probes to monitor the situation, but they are not in position yet. NASA's _New Horizons _probe just passed Neptune: it's the closest thing we have to eyes in that area. They have agreed to observe the craft as best they can for transmissions: that should tell us if it is the Chitauri."

"If it is the Chitauri, is there any chance of negotiation?" Vindicator asked. Everyone understood her motivation: the Canadian prairies and northern lands were massive, and as vulnerable as the cities, but much harder to protect. Darkstar, Cybermancer, and Sunspot, with their similar situations with the Russian steppes, sweeping Chinese plains, and Brazilian rain forests, nodded in understanding.

"There is a plan to try," Fury replied. "It's a given that the world leaders will want to try. Considering the amount of discussion that happened the last time these folks came calling, I wouldn't get your hopes up for any degree of success."

Colonel Rivers of the Australian ASIO straightened in his seat. "Since we have this advance information, do you have a strategy?"

"Yesterday, Secretary Pierce and I met with Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts of Stark Industries concerning new developments using technology devised by their company." A new projection appeared on the screen, with blueprints, maps, and text. "Yes, there is a plan."

He took heart as he looked at each of the individuals in the room: there was trepidation and worry, but no fear, no doubt, in any of the people facing him.

"We have a year to prepare, people. This information will be presented to the world leaders tomorrow: I ask that you wait until after that meeting to contact them and _everyone_ you know that can contribute to this fight. It's time to bury hatchets and do what is needed for the greater good. Look over the information: tell us if we've overlooked something. Suggestions are welcome." Fury smiled grimly. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to get busy and get the welcome wagon ready. We've got company coming."

* * *

><p>Diplomacy, Nick Fury decided, was a superpower akin to magic, and Alexander Pierce possessed it in spades. So far, Pierce had informed both the Security Council and the world leaders present for the United Nations special session that a fleet of alien ships were due to arrive at Earth's coordinates in about a year's time, and no one was panicking. Fury was sure that if he had attempted to do this briefing himself they would have been running out of the building screaming within five minutes of starting.<p>

"No, we have not had any communication with the ships," Pierce answered the Chinese ambassador patiently. "However, last night NASA's New Horizons probe intercepted stray transmissions that indicate that they are Chitauri."

"How do we know that they are definitely hostile?" the ambassador insisted stubbornly. "The ships are different than the one that Mr. Stark recorded when he blew up the Chitauri vessel: you confirmed that with the images from King T'Challa. There are hundreds of variations of humans on this planet - will all Chitauri be the same?"

"Do you want to count on that?" Pierce said, looking the man square in the eyes. He looked about the chamber, his gaze challenging. "Do you want to gamble the lives of your people, the existence of your culture, on the possibility that this batch of aliens are friendly?" His voice remained calm and conciliatory as he continued. "Believe me, I understand: no one wants a war, especially when we have an opponent who could just drop asteroids on our heads."

"Why do you think they won't use asteroids?" the Norwegian ambassador asked, leaning forward with a frown.

"Despite their actions in New York, we believe that they're interested in our resources: asteroids would cause significant damage without their warriors winning glory and reduce the material gains they need from our world. Therefore, unless we see them stopping to gather some big rocks, we are going to base our plans on the assumption that they will proceed with a direct assault."

"Why not meet them before they reach the asteroid belt?" His estimate of the intelligence of the emissary from Argentina fell in Fury's opinion - or the man had been deaf during the first part of Pierce's presentation.

"Our ships won't be ready in time." Pierce changed the screen of the visual presentation back to the one explaining the new tricarriers. "The most we could have ready before they reach that point is one ship. If they are hostile, it would be a waste of resources."

"So our best option is to let them come to us?" The Japanese representative frowned in distaste.

With admirable patience, Pierce explained the plan again. "We let them think we don't know that they're there for now. After they've passed the asteroid belt and are approximately inside martian orbit, then we let them know that we know about them. By that point, it should take too long for them to go back for asteroids. We activate the minefield that will be put in place with Mr. Stark's micro rockets on the next mission to the space station, and the tricarriers move in on them."

"But there's five ships, and only three tricarriers." Finland's representative squirmed. "If they are hostile, they will still be able to launch an attack."

"That is why we have more than one plan to implement." The corner of Pierce's mouth twitched as he saw Fury roll his eye in the back corner. "It would be foolish to assume that we would be able to prevent all of them from reaching landfall. We _hope_ to keep most of them in orbit: we are not stupid enough to guarantee that." His gaze flicked about the entire chamber: no one was missed. "We are, however, your best bet to have their assault diminished to manageable levels for earth-bound military forces."

He changed the screen of the visual presentation once again. "With your support, SHIELD will stop the worst of the incoming invasion; as you can see, our plans include not only the new helicarriers, but the minefield I already mentioned, and state of the art miniature weapons platforms. Mr. Stark, Dr. Richards, and King T'Challa have all generously contributed to our efforts: we will gratefully consider all contributions from any other organizations that wish to assist in planetary defense." He gestured at the projection, with its columns of data. "This is one of the most massive tasks humankind has ever attempted. Together, we will succeed." Silence filled the room as he gazed around again at all the surrounding faces.

"Ladies and gentlemen, of course we expect each of you to prepare your own country's defenses to look after those you are responsible for. However," he looked about the room with the same charming smile he wore on poker night two nights earlier when he had cleaned Fury out, "we need you to let us take charge. With your support, SHIELD will not fail."

The motion was passed unanimously. Fury felt a surge of relief when the results of the vote was announced.

The only sign of relief Pierce showed was a slight relaxing of his shoulders. The quick smile to Fury was full of pleased confidence, but the brief glint in his eyes was pure satisfied elation.

Fury stepped farther back into the shadows as he watched his old friend, unsettled. Pierce lived for the give and take of negotiations and politics, always had: games could run deep with him. A chill ran up Fury's spine. His gut was suddenly telling him this game was deeper than they all knew.

* * *

><p>Brooklyn had changed.<p>

Logically, Steve Rogers understood that over seventy years had passed since he had last stood in the borough. Cities were as much living things as the people who inhabited them, and changed with the people and times, but he still found himself looking for the small storefronts and businesses he remembered, and mourned their loss. A glass and concrete monolith to business filled the entire block where his favourite candy store, the butcher shop with the pretty girl Bucky had liked, and the store where his mother bought shoes had been. The five-and-dime had been replaced by a Starbucks, and the hat shop was a gaudy cell phone store. Nostalgia coloured his preferences, he knew, but it still seemed like the changes time had wrought resulted in a colder, unfriendly place.

There was a quiet thump on the rooftop behind him. "You asked to see us?"

He turned to see the vigilante known as Spiderman leaning against the chimney. Beside him, the Hero for Hire known as Luke Cage glared at the red-and-blue clad form. "That was the worst lift ever, punk. You deliberately let me hit that billboard."

"Would I do that?" Spiderman replied, innocently. "I'm always careful with passengers. Besides, the billboard was more damaged than you could ever be. If I had meant for you to hit it, there would have been more than the shape of your legs for a hole."

"Gentlemen." Steve stepped forward before the argument could escalate. "I asked to meet you here because I need you to do something for me."

Cage crossed his arms, frowning. "What could Captain America need us for? You have your buddies at SHIELD and the Avengers to help you. Surely you don't need two street-level thugs to bust muggers for you."

"Hey, usually rooftop level here!" his companion protested. They both ignored him.

Captain America stepped forward, looking Cage in the eyes. "Cut the crap. Everybody knows that you and your partner, and all the others who fight the good fight are heroes every bit as much as I am. It doesn't matter who your friends are, or if you're an Avenger: when you are needed, you do the right thing."

Cage shrugged and sighed. He hated when people saw through the street fighter mercenary. "What do you need?"

"I need both of you to find as many of the other heroes as possible to quietly spread the word." The somber tone of Captain America's voice silenced any possible objections. "The Chitauri are coming back, this time in space ships. Estimates have them arriving in about a year."

"What's the plan?" There was none of the jokester in Spiderman now.

"SHIELD has international cooperation, and the Avengers and Fantastic Four are working directly with them on a planetary defence plan. Other groups are working with their respective countries on national defence strategies. What I want you to do is mobilize everyone to take care of the New York." He sighed, a brief flash of worry crossing his face. "SHIELD and the Avengers just don't have the resources to deal with everything. We're contacting as many heroes as possible in other cities to do the same thing. There is a plan, but we need everyone on this."

"Consider it done," Cage said. "When we have a plan, we'll pass it on to you."

"Thank-you," Steve said, shaking their hands. "I know the city is in good hands."

"You can rely on us," Spiderman said. He looked over at Cage. "You can be the one to contact Castle. I'm like laundry to him: if it's doubtful, it's dirty. He's tried to shoot me three times."

"If I'm doing that, you go knock on Dr. Strange's door," Cage replied. "Don't know if he's home yet."

"I'll leave you gentlemen to it," Steve said, deciding a retreat was in order before the bickering escalated. They didn't notice him quickly exit the rooftop via the fire escape, intent on their own debate.

"If I'm doing Dr. Strange, you contact Ghost Rider. Seriously, that flaming skull creeps me out! I am so glad he doesn't usually hang in New York. What do you think, Cap? Cap?" The webslinger turned back to Cage. "How do you like that? He's bailed on us!"

"Smart man," Cage commented. "We should stop arguing and get started."

"Right." Spiderman shot a web at the nearest building and turned to Cage. "Need a lift?"

"Screw you," Cage snorted. "I'm taking the stairs."

* * *

><p>Once upon a pre-cave-in-Afghanistan-time, Tony Stark would have been thrilled to go searching for Atlantis. Once, an underwater vista would have had him looking for mermaids, or at the very least shapely figureheads on ancient shipwrecks. Now, he concentrated on the data Jarvis streamed across the HUD, carefully not thinking <em>gasping for breath in water<em> and _cold water burning in his lungs_…

"_I have not received any replies yet, sir._" Tony pretended to not notice how Jarvis was reporting data more often than needed.

"Are the buoys all working properly?" he asked, seizing on the distraction. "Any chance that they aren't broadcasting at full strength?"

"_All buoys are fully operational, sir. There just hasn't been any response yet_," Jarvis replied. _"Is there any possibility that there has been an error made in the co-ordinates we were given?"_

"Hold on a minute," Tony said, slowing to a halt. "I have a feeling we're either about to get an answer, or that really big shark is attracted to shiny red metal and about to try to snack on us." The Great White was the largest fish Tony had ever seen, either in an aquarium or a movie. Its full size became more apparent the closer it came. "This bruiser makes Bruce the Shark look like a guppy."

As it drew even closer, a dark humanoid form in its shadow became clear. "And Bruce's big brother has a friend. Here's hoping it's not just a travelling coral salesman." He stopped moving and floated, motionless, as the two ocean-dwellers drew close. The shark halted, letting its smaller companion swim ahead to confront Iron Man.

"Why are you trying to contact me?" Namor, King of Atlantis floated effortlessly in front of the Avenger, eyes full of contempt for the surface-dweller stupid enough to venture into his domain. "I thought I had made it plain to the people of the surface that we wish to be left alone."

"I'm not trying to invade your privacy," Tony said, refusing to let the Atlantean's arrogance get under his skin. "I've been asked to give you a message."

"What could you surface dwellers say that would be of interest to me, or my people?"

"A couple of months ago, there was an alien invasion-" Tony began.

"We are aware of that," Namor interrupted. "Some of the alien vermin ended up polluting my ocean."

"We're pretty sure they're coming back," Tony continued, ignoring the interruption. He held out a small package to the Atlantean. "I was asked to give you a copy of all the information we have so far. There's also a transmitter enclosed for if you wish to contact the folks at SHIELD directly."

"Why should we care about your problems with these aliens?" Namor demanded.

Tony stared silently at the undersea King for a minute, as the currents swirled around them. "Do you honestly believe that something that may affect the entire surface of this planet won't eventually spill over to your realm here?"

"They never went below the surface of the ocean, looking for us. You are the one who brought them to your world. It is of no concern to us," Namor sneered.

"Let me tell you about those aliens you're dismissing as not your problem," Tony said. "They never tried to negotiate. They didn't care who they shot at. They didn't take prisoners. They were only stopped when they were shot down, beat down, and dismantled. They were here only to get glory as warriors by destroying everything and everyone on this planet. If you think a bunch of water is going to stop them, well, good luck with that." He nodded, wishing the Atlantean could see the scorn on his face. "I've passed on the warning from our leaders, and given you the information. What happens now - to your people - is on you." He fired his repulsors and rapidly soared out of sight.

Namor scowled at the package thoughtfully.

* * *

><p>Victor Von Doom surveyed his realm from the top of one of his castle's towers. All was peaceful, with the rich sunlight making the scenery worthy of a postcard. Behind his mask, he smiled: this was home, he needed nothing more -<p>

A slight stir in the air made him stiffen; the parapets were private, exclusively his. He stood still, ostensibly still viewing the countryside while actually tapping into the castle security. The information he received was strangely unsurprising.

"Agent Romanoff." He didn't deign to turn to face her. "Why have you intruded upon my privacy?"

"When you didn't respond to Secretary Pierce's request for an audience, he asked me to ensure that you received the same information that was given to all of the world leaders yesterday." Natasha Romanoff looked relaxed as she leaned casually against a parapet, but he was sure that somewhere hidden on her person were devices that could…inconvenience even him.

"How very…considerate of him." He had to give her credit: she didn't flinch when he suddenly pivoted to face her. He accepted the envelope she held out to him, but set it aside on the parapet. "I already have my own information about the possible invasion. I can look after my people myself."

"The envelope contains an outline of the plans that have been made. If you want more details -"

"If I ever decide to contact SHIELD in the future," he said scornfully, casting doubt on said event ever happening, "I will deal directly with Fury, not SHIELD's own snake in the grass." Behind his mask, he smiled as he saw her eyes narrow thoughtfully.

He called to her as she started to turn away. "Agent Romanoff." She waited as he considered his words carefully. "Latveria is like this castle. It has a solid foundation and walls. Nothing outside or inside will bring it down." Her eyes narrowed as she _listened_: he would never speak needlessly. "SHIELD is not like this castle."

His fist gently thumped against the armour of his chest as he vowed, "For what you did for me in Vilnuis: when the heads of the snake break the walls and foundation of SHIELD, you may find temporary refuge here. I pay my debts: we will be even." He turned away, finding his kingdom the more interesting subject. "You found your way here: you can find your own way out."

Silently, she left him to his thoughts.

Long after she had left, he tried to sink back into the peace of his place, his kingdom, but a dark shadow now chilled the sun-drenched land.

He picked up the envelope.

* * *

><p>The Blue Area of the Moon was a tantalizing puzzle, almost irresistible. Sue Richards watched her husband fondly as he devised new ways to interpret the data from the sensors as Ben Grimm piloted their ship into orbit.<p>

"They _did_ get the message?" Johnny Storm asked, fidgeting. After Ben had firmly stated that he didn't need a copilot, Sue's younger brother had been left to his own devices. She had supplied him with a book for his tablet, but as far as she could tell, he hadn't once tapped on it after he had gone through Esquire, Playboy, FHM, and the five other magazines he had downloaded before leaving.

"I'm sure they got the message," Reed replied distractedly as he watched his scanners. "They are probably debating on the proper response. This is a government we're dealing with, not just a few individuals. They will be deciding between telling us to go away and asking us what we want."

"Couldn't they at least acknowledge that we're here?"

"They will also have to calm down the population," Sue said. "Until we showed up, they thought no one on Earth knew where they were. There could be panic down there."

"Here's hoping that if there is panic, they don't attack," Ben Grimm rumbled. "This bucket may have all sorts of gizmos to protect us, but none of it has ever been tested. I'd prefer to have the testing happen in the lab, in a breathable atmosphere, rather than out here."

"Couldn't we-"

"They're responding," Reed announced. "It's visual: I'll put it on the main monitor."

The visual was carefully uninformative. A large man in black, with a black mask with silver bolt marks, stood with a woman with long, vibrant red hair. She stepped forward, a carefully neutral expression on her face. "I am Medusa. I speak for the Black Bolt, king of the Inhumans. Why have you come here?"

Reed stepped forward, bowing his head briefly before speaking. "Thank-you, your majesties, for agreeing to speak to us. Our leaders have requested us to ask a favour of your people."

"Dr. Richards: we meet again." She nodded courteously, a slight smile flitting across her face. "I am glad to see you are well. Your assistance in the past is warmly remembered, and why you are allowed to be still in orbit." She glimpsed back over her shoulder at her husband as he laid a hand on her shoulder: a lock of her hair curled up to caress the hand. Her face lapsed back into careful neutrality before she continued. "We are aware of the Chitauri incursion that occurred last year," she said coolly. "We are also aware of the inbound ships that bear Chitauri warriors. We cannot become involved in a human/Chitauri war."

"I understand," Reed replied. "If any of your people are willing to volunteer, they are welcome, but we understand why you left earth: your people need to heal and rebuild their civilization. I have come to ask for something else."

She raised an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

"We would like to ask you to be caretakers."

Both Medusa and the Black Bolt looked intrigued. "Caretakers?" she asked. "We cannot take in refugees, you know it would be too dangerous."

"Just a capsule, containing as much data of the human race as we can compile before the aliens get within Martian orbit." Sue, watching their faces while Reed spoke, held her breath. Both seemed bemused by the request, with no sign of rejection. "Of course, you would inspect the capsule before accepting it for any contaminants that we might miss when we sterilize it."

The two Inhumans looked intrigued. "We shall discuss this," Medusa promised. "You will know our reply shortly."

"You think they're gonna do it?" Johnny asked as soon as the connection was cut.

"They didn't look offended or dismissive of the idea," Sue said hopefully.

"We'll just have to wait and see," Reed said, turning back to his sensors and the riddle of the Blue Area.

"Hope they don't take long," Ben grumbled as he rolled his eyes at Johnny's restless fidgeting. "With the moon in the way and all, Hotpants and I can't even watch a game up here."

* * *

><p>The island was small and unremarkable. Its tiny beach was rocky and the tree covered terrain peaked into jagged hills that weren't quite mountains.<p>

The Queen Charlotte Islands were lovely in the summer, Eric Lehnsherr decided, but unless he wished for a full-on mutiny, they would only be a temporary stopover. Toad and Pyro were openly bored, and he expected a murder attempt by Mystique if they weren't out before the autumn chill, never mind winter. Only Sabretooth enjoyed the current abundance of nature surrounding them: he frequently would disappear for days, hiking around the island, or swimming to one of the nearby islands to explore. A smile crossed Eric's face: it might be worth the risk to his life to suggest to Mystique that she mimic Sabretooth for warmth…

A sudden popping sound drew his attention away from the majesty of the sunset to the sand at his feet. A small metal cylinder had appeared from nowhere. His eyes narrowed as he considered it with his magnetic perceptions. It actually was a metal scroll, a thin sheet tightly rolled up and tied with a string. There were no devices attached or embedded to it beyond a small tag tied to the string. _Eric_was all that was written on it, but the familiar flowing handwriting told him all he needed to know about the sender.

He sighed as he reached with his powers to lift up and unroll the scroll. For all that most of his companions didn't like the island, he appreciated the peace it gave him. He resented needing to move again. He set the resentment aside as he examined the metal sheet: trust Charles to devise a way to send him a letter that he would be comfortable receiving.

_Eric,_

_I have not informed anyone of your current location: even the student who has sent this doesn't know the recipient of this message. I have a package of information waiting for you at Alkali Lake - it is in a small metal box, you will be able to find it. It is vital that you have this information. Everyone, human and mutant alike, are in deadly danger. Please contact me after you have read it. We need to talk._

_Charles_

* * *

><p>Assistant curator Valarie Garneau was puzzled.<p>

Tuesday at the Louvre were usually an odd combination of quiet and busy: quiet because they were closed to the public, busy because it was precious time for the staff to perform maintenance, do extra cleaning, reorganizing and changing of collections.

This Tuesday was unusually busy. Photographers swarmed over the buildings, both outside and inside, and every single member of the staff was present for assisting the curators with moving pieces in and out of collections. Monsieur Mitteron, head curator, was unusually impatient with Valarie's supervisor, Monsieur Coudereau: some of the primary masterpieces had already been packed in their shipping crates and replaced by their 'stand-ins', while others had 'under maintenance' signs hanging in their places. According to Sophie, one of her roommates, the sculpture atriums also bustled with similar activity. Her second roommate, Corrine, said the Musee D'Orsay was in a similar state. Even the janitorial staff had been pressed into service for moving the crates around, though she didn't know where they were being stored: the usual storage rooms were empty, and there had been no trucks hauling loads away.

She puzzled over the situation as she ate a hasty lunch in a paintings gallery that had already been emptied of its true treasures. The fact that the lunch wasn't the usual leisurely Parisien hour was jarring, but not nearly as unsettling as the scene that happened as she paused, halfway through her sandwich. Madam Frichot, the department secretary, interrupted Monsieur Mitteron as he was eating with a whispered message: the man blanched, gulped down the rest of his sandwich and bolted from the gallery.

A cold feeling lodged itself in Valarie's gut. Monsieur Mitteron was a pompous bureaucrat, but he was always calm and controlled. He was legendary for his aplomb: she had always counted herself lucky for only having exacting paperwork to deal with and not volatile temperaments and politics like some of her classmates at the Smithsonian and the Hermitage. Something was very wrong-

"Ms Garneau." She jumped in her seat as Madam Frichot spoke behind her. She turned courteously to the secretary: the woman's middle-aged features were as pinched and disapproving as ever, but there were also strain marks around her eyes. "Monsieur Mitteron and Monsieur Coudereau need you in the second restoration workshop immediately."

Obediently, she gulped the last bite of her sandwich and proceeded to the workshop. She tapped on the door and waited, fidgeting at the unusual delay. Finally, the door cracked open and Monsieur Coudereau carefully peeked out. "Good, you're here." He poked his head out to check that she was alone. "Come, come!"

She stopped and stared the minute she entered the room. All of the restoration work had been removed, and one end of the workshop was filled with push carts full of crated works. At the other end, four fully armed members of the Foreign Legion waited, along with a young Asian woman with purple-streaked hair and facial tattoos. She turned to her boss, a puzzled frown on her face. "What's going on? Why are the crates here, instead of the shipping docks?"

"Ms. Garneau, we need you to ensure that the materials we're sending away for safe keeping are both catalogued properly and stored safely," Monsieur Mitteron said, stepping forward. "Monsieur Coudereau cannot be spared from supervising here. You have demonstrated organizational skills, and adequate abilities in archival documentation. These gentlemen will move our second load of materials to the secure site and will follow your directions exactly. There are already problems with the organization of the previous delivery in the off-site storage vault: you are now in charge of organizing the storage vaults."

"Vaults? Where?" Valarie was confused. "How do we get the crates anywhere from here? Off-site? How do we move anything off-site without using trucks?"

"That's where I come in," the young woman with purple streaked hair spoke up. "It's easier to show you." She turned to the Legionnaires. "Gentlemen, can you get the next shipment into position?" She turned back to Valarie and winked. "Watch." She held out her hands: suddenly the assistant curator could see the interior of a concrete bunker inside a ring of glowing purple and pink light. More members of the Foreign Legion could be seen, as well as crates labelled with Louvre identification marks. "Move along, please. I have five more deliveries to do today for you and the D'Orsay folks." The soldiers, obviously used to the sight, started pushing the carts through the glowing portal, but Valarie froze, terrified, as she suddenly realized the nature of the purple-haired woman. The mutant smiled reassuringly at the young frenchwoman. "Don't worry, I've had tons of practice doing this. Much safer and more discreet than a bunch of trucks."

"Blink has volunteered to help us evacuate the vital pieces out of Paris this week. She already sent me to the vault twice yesterday," Monsieur Coudereau said reassuringly. "You will be safe." He deftly pushed her into the portal: his voice followed her to miles away from Paris. "Don't worry, she'll have you back in time for dinner."

* * *

><p>"Anyone who thinks the life of a supervillain is exciting should follow this guy around for a couple of days," Hawkeye grumbled. "So far, the only places he's been has been the pad he shares with the biggest cockroaches in Manhattan, the liquor store two doors down from that, the laundromat across the street, and a visit last night to Madam Venus' House of Pleasure. You would think that if he could afford Madam Venus he could find digs without kitten-sized roaches."<p>

Clint Barton had not encountered Gordo "Puff Adder" Fraley before in his career as a SHIELD agent, and he was not impressed. The man had been pitifully easy to track down. The Serpent Society had a considerable reputation as a villainous organization: he could only assume that either this guy was bottom-rung on the ladder, or one of the powers the Society had was good luck.

"He's on the move again," Daredevil reported. It had taken considerable cajoling to persuade the blind crime fighter to accompany Barton on the stakeout; he only agreed to provide backup to the archer when an agreement on a ban on chili had been reached. "This might be it, he's in costume."

"About time," Clint grumbled. "Which way is he going?"

"Completely different direction to all the other places he's been going," was the report. "He's either on a job that no one called him for, or he's going to the Bar."

"Here's hoping he's not indulging in cosplay at a convention," Clint said. "Let's go."

It soon became clear that their prey had a much different destination than his previous ones. 'Puff Adder' was actually cautious, following an irregular course and checking behind himself regularly. He led them for half an hour on a roundabout route, until he stopped in front of a shabby old storefront. They watched him as he waited in an alley across the street.

"He's checking his watch," Daredevil reported. "If this is the place, they must let people in at designated times."

"That would make sense," Hawkeye agreed. "Things have happened to the Bar With No Name before. It's no wonder that they're cautious."

"He's settling in: looks like this might be a while," Daredevil said. With a sigh, he sat on the rooftop next to the Avenger. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," was the laconic reply.

"Why are we doing this now?" The eerie solid eyespots on the red leather mask could be every bit as piercing as a glare from real eyes. "If we needed to get the lawbreakers, the villains, to help us with the incoming aliens, why didn't someone contact them when the rest of the superheroes were contacted two weeks ago? What has changed?"

Clint Barton was silent for a minute. When he finally spoke, his voice was grim. "Four days ago, another portal was detected out by Uranus. Five more ships are coming. There may be more after them: we don't know. The Powers That Be have decided that the media, and therefore the public, will be informed next week, when the various governments have their plans in place. We know we're going to need all the help we can get, and will consider any options. It is a matter of courtesy and an olive branch to these people to inform them and let them make their decisions before John Q Public is informed. They are powerful, and it would be great to have the extra manpower, but we realize that many of them can make…debatable decisions. We need to make it clear to them: we welcome those who want to help, and will respect those who don't want to get involved. Anyone who impedes the fight, takes advantage of the circumstances for profit, or tries to cut a deal with the Chitauri, will be considered war criminals and will be treated with extreme prejudice. If we deal with this crowd in advance of the announcement, we can deal with any potential problems with them before the public has an opportunity to panic."

Behind his mask, Matt Murdock fought back his own panic, and focused on the matter at hand. "Can we offer pardons, or at least a temporary truce, to any that step forward to help?"

"Special consideration will be dealt with on a case by case basis," Barton replied. "Fury is willing to work with local authorities to cut deals." He smiled grimly. "Tonight, we need to make it clear: their butts are on the line as much as ours - hey, he's moving. Get ready."

Daredevil sighed as he pulled out his club. "This isn't my idea of a great way to spend an evening. Couldn't Thor have come with you instead?"

"One of them would say something that would be offensive, and then Thor would beat the snot out of the poor sucker, a general all-out fight would break out, the Bar would get trashed again and move, and then we would have to track down these people individually. You, they know, and it'll make an impression on them that you are willing to talk to them about this." Barton nodded towards their prey. "I say we wait until he goes in, and then immediately knock on the door."

"Why not?" Daredevil grinned. "We may as well be direct since we come in peace."

Their feet hit the ground as the door closed behind Fraley. A quick dash across the street had them at the threshold within seconds of it closing.

"Shall we?" Hawkeye grinned. He knocked on the door.

* * *

><p>Driving an eighteen-wheeler wasn't his dream job, Jim Martin reflected: it seemed like a waste of a degree in environmental science, but the pay of a environmental field technician was peanuts compared to what he was pulling in as a trucker. His company had solid contracts with two car-part manufacturers that kept their large fleet of transports busy, plus there were odd-jobs that filled in the gaps between the regular runs, all of which lead to steady work for a hungry student in debt.<p>

The most recent deliveries the dispatchers had assigned to Jim definitely qualified as odd. As one of the junior drivers of the company, he was used to getting the odds and ends. This time, it was load upon load of baby formula to strange places. So far, he had delivered entire loads to the sub-basement of a shopping mall, an abandoned thread factory, an old mine shaft and closed ski resort, each in or near small-to-medium sized towns. Every site had a full crew of people to unload as quickly as possible. At the most recent one, he arrived at the same time as another driver from his company. As the crews rapidly unloaded, he compared notes with the other driver; Bob's route was almost identical, but his cargo was crates of military MRE's, and he knew of at least three other drivers with the same route, but different cargoes. They both shrugged in puzzlement at the strange demands of customers, although Bob claimed he had seen stranger when he had moved the contents of a billionaire's cottage in the Adirondacks to the Muskokas.

The foreman in charge had received a phone call just as the crew finished removing the last skid. When the man had signed for the delivery, he thrust the clipboard with the documentation at Jim and curtly said, "Better get going son, there's ten more loads waiting to be delivered in two days." Jim inhaled sharply: it had taken him two days just to deliver the four he had done. The man looked him in the eye, and he swallowed his objections: there was a quiet desperation in that glare that ran a chill up his spine.

As he started the drive back to the factory for another load, Jim idly flipped on the radio. Normally, he listened to audio books, but the sky was full of ominous clouds and he wanted to catch the weather forecast. He congratulated himself on his luck as the voices filled the cab of the truck. It wasn't even top of the hour and the news was already on.

_Space ships. Aliens. Planetary defences. _His hands tightened on the wheel, weather forgotten.

_Plans for ensuring civilian safety are already in effect. Don't panic. _Baby formula. MRE's. Discreet, evenly spaced locations.

_Military forces are fully mobilized. Emergency measures are in place._ Men unloading trucks as fast as physically possible. Quiet desperation in the foreman's eyes.

Jim drove faster.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Fourteen months later**

"Secretary Pierce is right." Most people would have been fooled by the Black Panther's calm facade. Fury had worked with the man enough over the past year to see past the fine worry lines around his eyes and the subtle slump in his shoulders signalling exhaustion. "You must go. We will continue the fight without you. Wakanda will survive. Earth will survive. If you stay, you will not." A haunted expression flicked across the king's face: he didn't need to remind Fury of the fate of the _Megaera_.

Fury nodded abruptly, unwilling to argue with T'Challa's determination. "Good luck to you and your people." He leaned forward, eye narrowed in determination. "We will be back." His face was carefully impassive as he cut the connection and turned to his first officer. Hill's face was pale and expressionless, almost cold as she awaited his orders. "Lay in a course for our rendezvous with the _Tisiphone_. Maximum speed."

"Yessir," she responded. "Helm, lay in course theta nine, maximum burn."

The bridge of the _Alecto_ was quiet as they turned away from their home, haunted by the massive plumes of smoke visible from orbit as the African savannah burned.

* * *

><p>Deep in the Stickney crater on Mars' moon Phobos, the two surviving tricarriers lurked while the commanders of SHIELD's remaining off-world fleet conferred.<p>

"Stark has finished the last of the weapons promised for your armoury," Fury said, reading the reports Hill had handed to him before the meeting. "We're preparing for departure to the asteroid belt in forty-five minutes." He handed the tablet to her. "We also located two more stray asteroids and another small comet for you to use for hiding places."

Victoria Hand nodded her appreciation. "Thank-you. More hidey holes are always welcome; we won't always be able to use Mars." She sighed as she scanned the tablet. "I'm glad the weapons got finished on time. Blink refuses to transport anything with tesseract energy." The commander of the _Tisiphone_ shrugged, understanding on her face. "She's concerned about the affects if they destabilize during teleportation - understandable, considering what they can do. Dr. McCoy is looking forward to working with them to try to replicate their effects with a different energy source." She looked Fury square in the face. "Will you have enough for your crew?"

Fury nodded. "As long as Stark and Selvig can continue, we should be fine. We have enough raw material for them to continue their work. We should be fully armed by the time we need them." He stepped closer to shake her hand. "Good luck. You have some good people here." Few would have noticed the subtle emphasis on 'some': to a veteran of undercover ops like Hand, it was a blazing signal flare.

"I am fortunate to have some of the best agents SHIELD has to offer as my crew," she said, her polite smile masking the query in her eyes.

"The Chitauri don't have a chance against your people," he said reassuringly. "I'm sure they will have many chances to demonstrate their abilities and loyalty to you in the upcoming days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she said, wary caution now in her eyes as she caught his subtle emphasis on 'you'. "Good luck out in the asteroids. We'll make them bleed before they get to you."

"I'm sure you will," Fury said with a faint smile. He risked leaning slightly closer to murmur, "Watch your back."

She said nothing as she watched him leave, her gaze piercing under her frown.

* * *

><p>5261 Eureka was a small asteroid in astronomical terms, but at over a kilometre in length it was more than adequate as a hiding place for the <em>Tisephone<em>.

"Cloaking device is activated," Quartermain reported. "Between it and the asteroid, they shouldn't be able to see us." He checked another monitor. "Minefield is activated."

Victoria Hand watched the Chitauri vessel as it grew in the viewfinder. "Our first catch."

Small blossoms of fire started to bloom along the hull of the enemy ship. Its atmosphere leaked through increasingly larger holes where the miniature mines magnetized themselves to the hull and detonated. Its exterior lights went out, and the engines went black, leaving all motion to momentum.

There was a feral edge to her smile as she tapped her earpiece. "Agent Garrett. Prepare to launch."

* * *

><p><strong>Two Months Later<strong>

The large oil stain on the floor was the last vestige of Tony Stark in the concrete room that had been his workshop.

Pepper Potts carefully stepped around it as she did her last walkabout of the mansion that had, for a brief time, been her home. She had never considered herself an overly sentimental person, but the echoing space brought back memories...

_Dummy hovering behind Tony amid a clutter of tools on the floor as he tinkered with the hotrod, stereo blasting out 'Institutionalized' as he left yet another oil stain on the floor next to the Saleen S7 and Audi R8._

_Tony looking up at her from the table after she had replaced his arc reactor. "I don't have anyone but you."_

_Jarvis' efforts to remove badly damaged armour slowly come to a stop as Tony turned to face her. "Let's face it, this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing."_

"Excuse me, Ms. Potts." Jarvis interrupted her musing. "Mr. Carson reports that the last shipment to the SHIELD drop points has been successfully delivered and the west coast office is in the final phase of shutting down. He estimates the last of the personnel should be out in ten hours. Agents Nash and Collins of SHIELD are here to escort you to the safe house Secretary Pierce has set up for you."

"Thank-you Jarvis." She sighed as she left the empty workshop to climb the stairs to the living room. Even Jarvis lacked…resonance since Tony had left, taking the primary AI with him, leaving a cloned copy to assist her.

Since the initial announcement of the imminent invasion, everything of Stark Industries had been quietly dismantled and relocated to carefully anonymous locations. Tony's Malibu mansion had been one of the first, but Pepper had continued to stay there while supervising the reorganization from the head office. Everything was carefully compartmentalized: not even she knew where everything of Stark Industries was currently. Things were more secure, safer that way. The fate of Justin Hammer and Hammer Industries, now in the hands of the Chitauri, had served notice to everyone in the high tech industries.

Now, with the redistribution completed, she was free to do her own disappearance. Several CEOs and prominent scientists had already done so: she would merely be the latest. It had been over a year since she had seen Tony (actually, one year, two months, and three days, but she would never admit to counting the days). With luck, now that each operation was self-sufficient, fully hidden and compartmentalized, she might even be able to join him…

"Ms. Potts, please evacuate the mansion NOW!" Jarvis suddenly announced. Startled, she turned to see the blast doors slide down over the massive bay windows overlooking the ocean: before they clanked into place, she saw the contrails of four missile streaking towards the house. With a gasp of sheer horror, she sprinted for the door, leaving her laptop and baggage in a heap by the door. She had barely opened the door when a roaring wall of heat slammed her forward, flinging her out to land face first on the pavement of the driveway.

Ears ringing, she finally succeeded in gasping in air, wincing as she pushed herself up. A familiar droning hum drove her to look up, blinking dirt out of her eyes. Four Chitauri air sleds flew into view, contemptuously blasting the gate at the end of the driveway as they flew over. The waiting SHIELD agents scrambled, Nash running to her as Collins fired from the dubious shelter of their car. Frantically, she scrambled to her feet, the taste of blood bitter as defeat in her mouth as she gathered her wits and tried to decide on the best way to escape...

Her knees gave way as both the SHIELD vehicle and Collins exploded into a fireball, unceremoniously landing on her butt. Agent Nash stepped between her and the aliens as the fliers landed on the driveway. She pushed herself back towards the remains of the house, feet scrabbling on the pavement as the aliens moved towards them…

"Hey, isn't a non-fighter piece of fluff like that kinda beneath a pair of warriors?" Pepper, Agent Nash and the Chitauri turned to gape at the pair sauntering up the driveway. Beneath her slightly frizzy brown hair, the woman's attractive face was marred by both scars and a manic grin, while her male companion's smile was belied by cold eyes. "Betcha you got sent because you're just a bunch of wimps."

The aliens pivoted to face the newcomers with challenging howls, guns levelled.

"Look Ellen, they want to play," the man sneered. He rolled his shoulders with a crackling sound and his smile got colder. They smiled at each other, and a golden glow suddenly rippled across their skin. "Game on!"

Pepper gasped as the two newcomers blurred into motion with inhuman speed. Agent Nash reached down to pull her to her feet and started dragging her towards the remains of the house. "I've called for backup, Ms. Potts. Let's find somewhere to take cover -"

"Pepper Potts. It has been a while." She shrieked and jumped as Nash spun to level his pistol at the immaculately clad man suddenly behind them.

"Don't move!" the SHIELD agent warned as he shouldered his way between Pepper and the stranger.

"Who..? How the hell did you get behind us?" she finally sputtered.

"Don't you recognize me? We were scheduled for a meeting later today, to discuss the possibility of me acquiring one of your unused relocation sites." He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like he was waiting for a drink at a cocktail party rather than waiting for her wits to function as people battled aliens behind her.

She stepped closer despite Nash's objections to peer into the face framed by a fashionably shaggy blond mane. "Aldridge Killian? It's been years since I've seen you: you've changed." She flinched as one of the Chituari fliers blew up behind her. "Why're you here? Our meeting was supposed to be this afternoon at the offices."

"I know," he replied. "Our appointment was going to be the last thing you did before SHIELD helped you disappear."

"I never said-"

"I know about Secretary Pierce's plans," he said, with an odd smirk at Agent Nash. "I don't think you have been fully informed about the nature of his…involvement with SHIELD. There's more to his special…division than anyone knows. Even Director Fury-"

"That's enough!" snapped Nash. "Ms. Potts, we need to go to the safe house-"

"She's not going anywhere with you," Killian sneered. His eyes glowed and a familiar gold energy rippled across his skin. With terrifying speed, he seized Pepper by one arm as his other fist slammed through the SHIELD agent's chest. "For now, Hydra is useful. They can take care of the Chitauri for now." As she gasped in shock, he dropped the dying agent to the ground, kicking his gun aside.

He looked at her as if she were a specimen under a microscope, his face cold despite the heat radiating from him. She shrank back from him, his eyes chilling her to the core despite the molten gold colour. The hand that held her arm in an iron grip was cool, but she could feel intense heat radiating off him. The fist and arm he had thrust through Agent Nash's chest burned with the intensity of iron in a smelting furnace. Pepper could see smoke rising as the stench of scorched fabric and burnt meat burned into her sinuses. She swallowed despite a dry mouth, grimly determined to not vomit as she struggled futilely against Killian's inhumanly strong grip. "I can't have you going back to tell them about me or my people, the time isn't right," he said as he kicked the corpse out of the way.

"What're you doing?" she gasped. "What're you talking about? Pierce is one of the primary organizers of the resistance-"

"It'll all be explained," he said serenely, chilling her to the core. He strode out to the driveway, dragging Pepper with him. "You two finished?" he asked as the woman slammed the last alien to the ground and the man melted the final flyer.

"All done, boss," the cold-eyed man replied as he fell in step to grasp Pepper's other arm. He hadn't even broken a sweat. The woman was still smiling as she followed.

"Where're you taking me?" Pepper as she futilely dragged her feet.

"I've my own safe house for you," Killian said. "I was going to just describe my new technologies to you during our meeting, but since plans have been changed and you're coming to us, I'll arrange a demonstration instead."

* * *

><p>"Your turn."<p>

Thor watched his brother contemplate his next move on the chessboard as he nibbled on a sandwich. They both ignored the muzzle on the table beside the game board, as well as the two heavily armed SHIELD agents with aimed rifles and the explosive belt strapped around Loki's waist. To the uninformed eye, Loki was calm and relaxed, nonchalantly tapping his chin as he contemplated the chessboard; only Thor noticed the rapidity of the tapping, and the slight narrowing of his eyes. Finally, he reached out to shift a bishop to capture a pawn and sat back to take another bite out of his sandwich with a satisfied smile.

The smile faded as Thor calmly moved his knight to capture the bishop. "You forget, brother, that the board might be similar to our _hnefatafl _board, but some of these pieces move differently." He looked his brother in the eye, compassion deepening his meaning. "This is a new game, with new pieces and strategies. The old ways don't always work."

Loki smirked at his brother. "And yet, some things never change. Like your feeble attempts at strategy." He reached out to shift another piece. "I believe that is called 'check'." He sighed. "Why do we play this infantile game?" he sneered at his adopted brother. "Surely your little pet human Selvig could come up with a proper _hnefatafl_ board for a real gaming challenge?"

"It was very generous of Erik to loan us his board," Thor said, deliberately ignoring the condescension. "He taught me how to play, and I thought showing you how to play would help ease your boredom-"

A tap at the door interrupted the verbal sparring, and they both looked over to see Nick Fury enter the cell. The director calmly walked over to examine the game as he said, "Thor, you asked to see me."

"Yes, Director," Thor replied. He took a breath to compose himself to regal confidence worthy of a prince of Asgard. "I want to propose a truce between you and my brother." Both Loki and Fury stared at him in disbelief. "Until Loki can be returned home, Director, you are compelled to go to these extraordinary measures to guard him. I'm sure the agents and equipment are needed elsewhere in these dire times. Leave him in my keeping." He turned to Loki. "Brother, you know that this captivity wears on you. Swear you will do no harm, and we will get you home as soon as possible."

Fury hesitated before speaking, carefully weighing his words. "Thor, I understand what you're trying to do, and appreciate that this is a difficult situation for you." His face hardened as he continued. "I have to decline your proposal." Fury's face was cold as he stared into Loki's eyes. "'An ant has no quarrel with a boot'," he quoted with a grim, humourless smile. He reached into the breast pocket of his coat to pull out a sheaf of folded papers. "He will never keep faith in an agreement with beings he considers with such contempt."

"Oh, but I could help you in your fight with my former allies," Loki said, his earnest face betrayed by the malice in his eyes. "I could tell you all about them. Surely that is worth something-"

"I will vouch for his behaviour -" Thor began.

He stopped in confusion as Fury unfolded one of the bundles of papers and set it on the table between the Asgardians. "This is a list of the eighty-seven agents and civilians killed in Stuttgart and when Pegasus Base was destroyed." A second set of papers was set on top of the first. "Sixty-three SHIELD personnel killed on the helicarrier at New York." The thickest sheaf of papers was slapped on top of the pile. "Three hundred and six civilians killed in New York." There was sorrow under the steel in the gaze he turned on the thunder god. "He's called the god of lies, with good reason. His lies kill people. The only thing I would trust to get from him would be treachery."

"I never thought I would hear myself say this, but the human is right," Loki said disdainfully. "They will never trust me."

"Brother, you are better than this," Thor said painfully. "You can be a good person." He leaned forward, his despair tinged with anger. "Make amends for your actions. We can make this work-"

Loki turned to Fury with a sneer. "You heard him. I need to make amends. How may I do so?"

The sneer faded as Fury smiled. "When your brother asked me to meet here, I suspected it was for something like this. So I did a bit of research." He stepped closer to the the table, arms crossed. "As captain of an elite band of warriors on a ship, I believe I qualify as a lord, and as a lord I can demand certain rights in situations like this." He uncrossed his arms to lean on the table and stare into Loki's eyes. "Swear fealty to me, on your honour as a prince of both Asgard and Jotenheim. Be one of my vassals, and I will consider this request."

"Never!" Loki recoiled, disgust on his face. "I would rather rot in a cell than treat with creatures like you."

"Didn't think so." Fury smirked bitterly as he gathered up the lists. "As far as I'm concerned, I have at least four hundred and six reasons to leave that gag on, toss you into the deepest hole I can find and feed you with an IV drip. Thor persuaded me not to do that." He leaned closer, deadly promise in his eye. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that I will ever trust you. As soon as we have what we need to clean up this mess you caused, you're going back to Asgard to deal with your fucking daddy issues there." He nodded apologetically to Thor and stalked from the room, anger and disgust radiating from his form.

There was a moment of silence after the director left.

"It's your turn," Loki reminded Thor.

Thor looked down at the board, disappointment and resignation warring on his face. With a sigh, he reached out.

"Checkmate."

* * *

><p>"We received a transmission an hour ago from Agent Romanoff that one of the Paris vaults has been cracked." Fury's face was grimly unexpressive as he gazed at the group gathered around the conference table.<p>

"Any idea what they got?" Maria Hill was as determinedly professional as ever. Only the tightness at the corners of her eyes betrayed the constant exhaustion she lived with. That they all lived with.

"At least the D'Orsay site. Romanoff went dark after her report." Silence met his announcement. "That isn't all. Agents Snow and Green confirm that we've lost Emerald Base." The silence deepened. "They destroyed the base like usual, but this time they took prisoners, including Dr. Banner and Agent Barton."

Tony Stark leaned forward, eyes intent. "How'd they get Banner? Even we didn't know where he was. His location was beyond top secret or level eight or whatever you super spies call it, never mind his big green rage issues."

"We're still figuring that out," Fury said grimly. "The base just suddenly went silent. When Alpha Flight got there, they found the base swarming with Chitauri."

"How do we know for sure they have them?" Thor inquired.

"Snowbird infiltrated the base and saw Banner in a cryostasis tube, and Barton was locked up with the senior base personnel. She followed them to the Chitauri's Atlantic base and saw the tube and prisoners, along with crates from the Paris vault, being loaded onto one of their ships."

Rogers frowned thoughtfully. "How did they capture a base without an alarm or a fight?"

Fury started to pace in agitation. "We knew the most recent invasion wave had more than one kind of Chitauri. Apparently, according to Snowbird's report, that included shape shifters. We figure they impersonated some of the base personnel and released a gas."

"And the rest of the your people?" Thor seemed calm, but there was tension in his shoulders. "Were there many killed?"

"Most of them have been sent to the nearest slave labour camp," Hill replied. "No deaths reported."

"What's the play?" Rogers asked.

"Rescue Banner, of course," Stark interrupted, grim determination on his face.

"Yes. I mean, what is our strategy going to be?"

"It's up to us," Fury said. "The _Tisiphone_ is too far out to intercept the ship." He started to pace in agitation. "This isn't like their usual looting. For almost two years, they haven't bothered with taking people. Now, either they want to use human shields and force us to extra caution, or they consider this particular bunch of people worth the extra effort."

"It's safe to guess they know who Banner is by the way they're treating him. There's likely tons of things they want from him - the most obvious is to take out one of their most lethal opponents. Probably they'll borrow a page from General Ross and try to use him replicate the conditions that created the Hulk to use on their own people. Also, he knows enough, both about our organization and scientifically, that he's a valuable information source." Stark shrugged. "Maybe they figure that it's time to start using people for more than slave labour and target practice."

"They may want to use Agent Barton and the SHIELD personnel as hostages for Banner's good behaviour," Hill speculated.

"Their reason for this doesn't matter," Fury said. "We need to stop them. Carefully."

* * *

><p>From Fury's position on the bridge of the <em>Alecto<em>, Ganymede was a large, grey-brown sphere partially blocking a view of Jupiter, flanked by its moons Io and Europa against a field of stars. The planet glowed serenely, with only the intricate patterns and swirls on its surface indicating the vicious storms in the giant's atmosphere.

"It's too bad we can't just stop and watch for a while." He looked over his shoulder to see his second-in-command in a rare state of star-struck admiration of the scenery.

"You seem to be finally appreciating our unusual situation," he said, carefully not smiling. Maria Hill had turned out to be one of the few individuals very slow to adapt to the conditions of space travel: despite Stark's best efforts, there continued to be tiny fluctuations in the artificial gravity, resulting in her and a few other crew members being violently ill for the most of the first few weeks in space. There were still a few foolhardy souls aboard that joked about "Agent Hurl".

"Don't think for a minute that I wouldn't prefer a nice sunset on a tropical beach," she retorted, "but even I have to admit that this is very impressive."

"And here I was thinking I would need to install a row of seats and a popcorn machine for you." He couldn't resist: he wasn't supposed to know about how miserable she had been (still was, at times). "We could come back after this is all over and watch for the Great Red Spot."

"If you're going to try to impress me, dinner at Le Meurice on rue de Rivoli in Paris will do nicely. Lobster and champagne is a much better way to my heart, and might just make me forget the past couple of months," she said dryly, with the faintest hint of a curve to the corner of her mouth.

"Expensive tastes." He raised an eyebrow. "However, I imagine you have something much more important to report than your preferred dining arrangements."

"Yessir," she said, once again crisply formal. "Sensors report that the Chitauri ship is approximately halfway through the asteroid belt. Best estimate for their time of arrival at the target point is two days."

"About time," he grumbled. "Was getting tired of waiting for them to haul their alien asses out here. Any sign of them detecting us?"

"None. Between our camouflage technology and Ganymede's natural disturbance in Jupiter's magnetosphere, we seem to be hidden from them."

"They're definitely unescorted?" he asked.

"Their escort stopped at the asteroid belt," she said, scorn on her face for their foes' carelessness. "They definitely don't know that any Terran ships are this far out."

"Good. Tell Stark to get ready to seed the target area with the micro mines, and have all boarding crews on standby," he ordered. "The Chitauri learn fast. We'll only have one chance to use this trick, we damn well better make it work. Time to pull off a good old fashioned ambush."

* * *

><p>"Sir, estimates have the Chitauri ship at the target site in one hour," Maria Hill reported.<p>

Fury turned to the man standing next to him. "Captain, assemble a crew for boarding." He saw the conflict in Rogers' eyes and sighed, feeling a twinge of sympathy and regret. "Captain, we are at war with the Chitauri. You know they do not negotiate."

"I understand," Steve Rogers said with a grimace. "It just feels…wrong. Like we're raiders or pirates or something."

"In some ways, maybe we are," Fury acknowledged with a wry expression. "Perhaps it would help if you considered us more like privateers - pirates, but for a good cause. In this case, for the planet Earth rather than a king or government." He crossed his arms and scowled at the Captain. "Now go get your crew ready. There's a Chitauri ship that needs to be pirated."

* * *

><p>They waited in Ganymede's shadow, a cat waiting for the mouse to fall into the trap before springing on its prey. Aboard the quinjet, Steve Rogers watched the stars over the pilot's shoulder: behind him, Tony Stark paced, footsteps clanking, while their SHIELD team checked and rechecked their weapons.<p>

Tony finally paced up to the cockpit. "Did they stop for takeout or something?" he demanded.

"They're here," the copilot announced before Steve could reply. "They should be hitting your minefield in about five minutes." He pointed out the metal form in the distance, rapidly moving on a course that would go past them.

"It's so nice when they cooperate," Tony commented as he watched. "Five, four, three, two…"

The explosives were tiny: each one on its own wouldn't do much damage. There were, however, dozens: under Tony's direction, they attached themselves to both the communications array and the engine of the ship and promptly exploded. The ship shuddered, massive holes in its engines, its motion now limited to momentum.

Pilot McClennan already had the quinjet in motion: with the ease of much practice, he had the docking clamps extended and quickly attached to the hull. He checked the sensors carefully. "Contact is good," he announced, part of the routine. "Preparing boarding charges." There was a small explosion, followed by hissing as acids burned through the inner hull. "Ready for secondary charges. Boarding team, get ready to go. On the count of three. One. Two. Three!"

The weakened hull collapsed, and Captain America charged through, followed closely by Thor, Iron Man, and a SHIELD tactical team. The Chitauri were waiting.

The blast from the Chitauri rifle hit his shield with a clang. Before the alien could realize the futility of his shot and fire again, Steve closed the distance and smashed him into the wall with a crunch, while beside him Thor crushed the last opponent they faced into the wall with his hammer. Behind him, he could hear Agent Rumlow directing their part of the SHIELD team to guard their rear.

Carefully, he recounted the number of doors they had passed, comparing it to the route he had memorized. The next door on the right should be the one. Cautiously, he tapped the pad next to the door; nothing happened. Sighing, he reached down, grabbed the alien he had just downed and placed its hand on the pad. He smiled grimly at Thor as the door opened. "Tony was right. We better bring one of these guys with us to open any other doors we encounter."

"Aye," Thor said, picking the alien up by the scruff. "We shouldn't smash too many things in here." He peered through the door. "Two more doors. Here's hoping our 'friend' can open it for us."

The doors obligingly opened. The first door opened to a room full of humans, mostly in battered SHIELD uniforms; Steve counted about twenty. One man stepped forward warily. "Captain America?"

"Yes," Steve replied. "We're here to rescue you." He turned to Rumlow. "Have someone escort these people to the quinjet. Thor, check the other room." He turned back to the prisoner. "How many more of you are there, Agent….?"

"Agent Wu, sir," the man replied. "Most of us are here, but when our break-out attempt failed, they took five of our people and I haven't seen them since. I don't know if they're dead, or locked up somewhere else." He looked Steve in the eye. "I'm sorry sir, Agent Barton was one of the five."

"Go back to the quinjet with your escort and wait," Steve ordered. "We'll take it from here."

"Captain," Thor called from the other room. "You need to see this."

Entering the other room, Steve could see why the Asgardian had called him. There were people in the room; they were in large horizontal boxes, with clear tops. Machinery on the end of each box hummed. Inside each one was a person, looking frozen. Steve counted six; with a sinking feeling, he stepped closer. Banner, Barton and four other SHIELD agents lay in frozen sleep.

Stepping back, he tapped his earpiece. "Pilot McClennan, I need you to contact the _Alecto_. Tell Director Fury there's been a change of plans. We're going to need a team to assist Mr. Stark. Things just got more complicated."

* * *

><p>"According to Jarvis, the cargo hold should be this way. Follow me, boys and girls," Tony announced. The half dozen SHIELD agents behind him followed his lead, keeping close watch for Chitauri.<p>

"The cargo bay seems to be a low priority for the Chitauri, sir," Jarvis reported. "It appears that there is minimal crew aboard, and they have concentrated their attention on preventing Captain Rogers and Thor's efforts to rescue the prisoners."

"I don't mind," Tony replied. He stopped at a door. "This is it, boys and girls." He beckoned an agent to step forward. "Agent Duclos, do your thing."

The petite explosives expert stepped up to the door and carefully attached a small box. "Everyone step back," she said. Seconds later, there was a small bang, and the door flew open. "It's all yours, Mr. Stark," she said with a flourish.

"Thank-you, Agent Duclos," Tony said, with a half bow to the agent. "I'm sure the curators of the D'Orsay museum will appreciate your uncharacteristic restraint." He stepped into the dark room. "All of you, wait here until I clear the room." He lit up the search lights built into the shoulders of his suit and whistled in surprise. He turned back to the team. "This might take longer than I expected." They peered into the room behind him and gasped.

"I think we better help you," Duclos said, looking around the warehouse-sized space stacked deep with crates. "The reports never indicated anything this massive."

"Right, you three take the left aisle, I'll take the right," Tony decided, stepping forward. "Let me know if you find the Ark of the Covenant."

"Everyone, keep an open comm link," Duclos ordered. "DeVries, record everything and stream it back to the quinjet to start the inventory." She shivered, breath steaming. "Hopefully we'll find environmental controls soon. It's freezing in here!"

The aisle Tony chose to walk down was definitely from the D'Orsay vault. He recognized many of the names of the pieces on the crates. "Very thoughtful of them," he said musingly. "They stacked everything in alphabetical order back here, by artist." He idly identified them as he walked along. "Coubert, Cezanne, Couture, Degas, Gauguin, Manet, Matisse… Who would have ever guessed that art history class I took in first year would have been useful… Hello, what's this?"

In a gap between the crates, something moved. Hand raised, repulsor charged, he cautiously peered in. A small dark form was huddled shivering at the back, pistol pointed in his direction. A faint glint of red hair was all he could definitively see before he had Jarvis turn on the infrared scanners. He couldn't help but smile in relief when he could see more clearly.

"Good day, Agent Romanoff. Fancy meeting you here between Manet and Monet." He held out a gauntleted hand as he flipped up his face mask to reassure her. "I assume that as an official member of the stowaway club you didn't pack a lunch, never mind a warm jacket. Let's go get you a bite to eat and a coffee. We have some good news for you."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, you don't know?" Briefly, Fury counted himself fortunate that he shaved his head: if he had hair, he may have started pulling it in frustration.<p>

"Hey, this isn't my area of expertise." Tony Stark flung his hands up in exasperation as he paced in front of the video communicator. "Engineering, robotics, cybernetics, nanotech, thermonuclear astrophysics, sure. Give me some way to read the controls or even a manual explaining alien cryogenic systems so I can learn without killing people, I'm your man." He huffed in frustration. "I've figured out the power source - it's actually not too bad, has interesting ideas I could use for portable systems, not as impressive as an arc reactor…"

"Stark!"

"Right. Cryogenics." Tony visibly pulled his train of thought back on topic. "I figured out the chilling mechanism - which, by the way, has nothing to do with any freezer you will have encountered before - but when it gets into the whole hook up to people thing, I need to consult with other experts." He gestured at the empty room behind him. "Even if my teammates were here instead of turning this ship inside out, they wouldn't be able to help with this."

"I see." Fury paced as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he came to a decision. "Can you move the ship?"

Stark rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You _did_ see how my mines blew holes in the engines, right?"

"Is there any way to move the damn thing? The next communications rendezvous with the _Tisiphone_ is in five days. It will take us at least four and a half days to get to the coordinates."

"We can't just park this thing on your flight deck. We might not have to worry about aerodynamics in space, but having something as large as this thing would be a major problem. We wouldn't be able to leave this ship's shields on, because of the interference they would cause with the _Alecto_'s own shields, communications and weapons, never mind the security risk with having the Chitauri we captured on board. We would have to rebuild our entire force field projector if we wanted to extend it around this ship too, something that could take weeks…"

"I understand the problem!" Fury stopped pacing to glare at the genius. "I don't want to leave you behind, but it's the one surefire way to get help." He thought for a minute. "Is it possible for you to push it closer to Ganymede?"

There was silence for a minute while Tony considered the problem. "We might be able use the quinjets, if we pick the right spots on the hull for them to clamp on to…"

"Let me know what you come up with," Fury ordered. "The Alecto leaves in three hours. Make a list of the gear you need. I'll send it along with Dr. Reyes and her medical team, an engineering team and more security personnel with the quinjets."

* * *

><p>Fury wasn't happy about leaving four of his six quintets behind, but it was the best compromise for Stark's solution to moving the crippled alien vessel. Engineer McGregor improvised a way to boost the electromagnetic docking clamps, allowing the quinjets to clamp onto the ship's hull anywhere as they fired their engines on a carefully calculated trajectory - not fast, and certainly not beautiful, but efficient enough to give the director confidence in their ability to get to a hiding spot while the <em>Alecto<em> made the rendezvous.

"We'll be back in ten days, sooner if possible," the director promised the group gathered at the communications monitor on the alien vessel.

"Everything should be fine," Rogers reassured him. "We'll continue repairing the engines and long-range communications systems while you're gone. If all goes according to plan, we should be behind Callisto in ten hours."

"Good luck, Captain Rogers," Fury said grimly. He nodded to Hill, who stepped away to bark out departure orders. "Try not to blow up before we get back."


End file.
